


A Yuletide Heist

by maskedhero



Category: Tales of Vesperia
Genre: Christmas, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:47:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21883243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maskedhero/pseuds/maskedhero
Summary: A teenaged Yuri and Flynn commit Grand Theft Pine. And a few other crimes.
Relationships: Yuri Lowell & Flynn Scifo, Yuri Lowell/Flynn Scifo
Comments: 6
Kudos: 23





	A Yuletide Heist

**Author's Note:**

> Very much intended to be Fluri Crush Time, but it can also be seen as Heterosexual Life Partners/True Bros, your interpretation is absolutely valid.
> 
> I'd like to thank everyone who take the time to read and comment on my work. It means so much to me, both comments and feedback. I encourage you all to keep it up, for any artist and author whose work you adore!
> 
> Thanks for reading! Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and a Happy New Year!

In the dead of night, Yuri sneaks through streets of snow lit an eerie yellow by streetlight. The snowfall makes a good cover; by morning, any footsteps made will be swallowed up at this rate.  Yuri peers over a bush, looking past iron-wrought fencing at his target: Rows of pine trees with heavy, full branches. He checks to make sure he has his hatchet on hand, as well as the other things in his pockets; a meager satchel of gald, a tinderbox, a bundle of hemp rope. Some wrapped candy. For emergencies.

"This is a terrible idea," a voice hisses at his ear, making Yuri jump. He leers at his companion, Flynn. Sixteen years old, only three months older than him, this guy is both his most trusted friend in the world and also the most annoying person he knows.

"You didn't have to come,” Yuri says with a knowing smile.

"How are you going to carry a six foot tree by yourself, idiot?" Flynn juts out his chin. "If I'm here, I can at least keep you from getting into real trouble."

Yuri scoffs and rolls his eyes, turning back to his task.

"We can jump the fence here, but we'll have to find out how to get the tree through. The top has those spear-looking points, we can't flip the tree over those without losing a bunch of needles and branches."

"Yuri, if you're suggesting we break the lock on the gate, I don't know if I can do this." Flynn rubs his pink hands together fiercely and breathes hot air on his fingers.

"I wasn't suggesting that, but it's not a bad idea." Yuri rubs his chin, hiding a cheeky smirk.

"No. Are there really no guards out here at all?" Flynn pokes his head over their bushy cover.

"Yeah, that LeBlanc guy let it slip that there was a gap in patrol at this part of night because of holiday stuff and people calling in sick." Yuri shrugs. "That guy is way too talkative, y'know?"

Yuri stands up and pushes through the bush, as Flynn protests behind him.

"What are you doing!?"

Without an answer, Yuri trots over to the gate, where an iron padlock with a big keyhole blocks their way. Yuri waves Flynn over, and with grumbled complaints, Flynn comes along.

"You have your lockpick set on you, right?"

"Well, yes. But that's for emergencies." Flynn flushes. "I would hardly call this an emergency."

Yuri raises his brows at him. "If we want the lower quarter to have a phenomenal Yule morning, they deserve the biggest and best tree possible, don't they? We have ornaments and  tinsel galore, but no damn tree."

Flynn puffs out his cheeks.

Yuri takes his shoulders. "I will break this lock if you don’t open it.”

"Fine, fine." Flynn reaches into his old flannel and pulls out a leather pouch. He rolls out his tools, handing it over to Yuri to hold. “I’m still not happy that we’re committing Grand Theft Pine.”

"You're the one who decided to tag along," Yuri says again in a sing-song voice.

Ignoring him, Flynn inspects the gate. "This looks like an older gate, so we'll need these..." Flynn chooses his tools carefully. "It's so old fashioned. What bad security."

"Well what did you expect? There are guards swarming this place, they probably don't think they need something more heavy-duty." Yuri looks over his shoulders, just in case. So far, so good.

Working his magic, Flynn has the gate unlocked in three clicks. It swings open with a quiet squeal, and the two of them are immediately in the yard afterward.

"We're leaving footprints," Flynn whispers in a panic.

"Calm down, nobody will ever know it was us!" Yuri starts to pick through the trees. He pulls his hatchet from its holder as he goes.

Flynn squints at it. "You expect that rusty thing to take one of these down?"

"Hey. This is my lucky hatchet." Yuri twirls it in his hand. He grins. "Don't underestimate me."

"You can't just call something your Lucky Thing and expect me to be completely okay with everything you want to do!"

Yuri flits around a tree. "You know who you sound like?"

"Don't say it," Flynn sighs, following him.

"You sound like Nagatha."

"I do not. And don't call her that, Agatha is a perfectly nice--"

"Don't lie!"

"... Agatha is fine." Flynn huffs a cloudy sigh.

Yuri and Flynn circle the grove. Snowflakes cover their hair and shoulders, coat the branches, pile on the ground, and Yuri smiles through it all. There are so many different kinds of trees here, with thick waxy needles or thin fragile needles, emerald to dark teal, branches that pointed up towards the sky and others that hung low to the ground. Flynn brushes snow from the boughs with a reverence that makes Yuri feel soft.

"I couldn't do this without you, Flynn," Yuri says, brushing his hand through pine needles. He takes a deep breath of the crisp air, the fresh smell. "I'm glad you came."

"Of course, Yuri. You know, this is actually pretty nice. Oh... oh, come here!" Flynn gets excited, and Yuri watches him bounce on his feet as he points out a tree off to the middle.

It's only a little bit taller than they are, but nice and fat, with hefty branches that could easily support several handmade ornaments.

"Isn't it perfect?" Flynn's eyes are dazzling, his grin radiant. Yuri is caught off guard, staring at his pink, freckled cheeks.

"... Yeah, perfect," he says.

"Aren't you going to cut it down?" Flynn blinks at him. "Why are you staring?"

"Oh, yeah." Yuri gets back into action, twirling his hatchet before crawling under the branches to start hacking at it. "Oh dude, this is really thick!"

"That's what she said," Flynn says.

Yuri barks a laugh. "Shut up!"

Much to his chagrin, the hatchet has quite a time chopping at the base of the tree. At the funny angle Yuri is at, it’s much more difficult than he expected. After a sweaty half hour, Flynn and Yuri switching off, it’s three-quarters through. And then, between the smacks of the hatchet against wood, they hear the crush of snowy footsteps and the clank of armor. Lantern light lengthens the shadows of the trees.

"Who's there? Show yourselves!"

Flynn hisses and drops down next to Yuri. "We're made! We have to go!"

"I'm almost done," Yuri growls, chopping away at the base. "We can't quit now!"

"Yuri, I'm not spending the Yuletide in a jail cell!" Flynn's voice breaks in panic.

Yuri curses under his breath, shoving the handle of the hatchet into Flynn's hands. "Keep going, I'll distract them."

"D-distract?! How?"

"I'll figure it out!"

Fortunately, their goofing off in the tree grove left footprints stomped everywhere, making it hard to track exactly where they'd gone. Making fresh footsteps in fallen snow, Yuri rustles branches as he goes and smacks tree trunks, forcing the guard to follow him and his tracks rather than the steady thud of Flynn's chopping.

Yuri's heart rate is at an all-time high, and he can't stop grinning like a madman. The guard is falling for it! They're really going to get away with this!

And then he runs right into the soldier, his face smacking onto his cold breastplate. He's grabbed by the scruff. His scarf hikes up around his neck, choking him.

"Well, if it isn't Yuri Lowell," the guard says with a drawl. "Why am I not surprised?"

"A Merry Yuletide to you, too," Yuri rasps, keeping his smirk. "I thought I'd come by and see how the upper crust lives this time of year."

"In the middle of the night? You grimy little urchin." The soldier hears the distant thud, and looks up. "What the hell? You got a friend here?"

"I don't know what that is. I guess that's more important than apprehending me, huh?"

The guard squints at him. "You have an accomplice. What the hell are you doing in Sir Cumore's backyard anyway?"

Yuri bursts out laughing. "This is Cumore's backyard?! Oh that's GOLD!"

The guard shakes him back and forth, and Yuri is nearly strangled. "Don't laugh, kid! You're in big trouble!"

There's a loud cracking sound, followed by the hiss of needles falling to the ground and a muffled  _ thump _ . The guard exclaims. 

"You're stealing a tree?!"

"I said I don't know what the hell that is!" Yuri grabs at his scarf. "You're choking me, let me down!"

The guard drops him to the ground and points at him. "You, don't move a muscle! I'm coming back for you!" He clanks off into the brush, looking for the tree defiler in the distance.

Yuri adjusts his scarf and spits. "Yeah right." Darting off to the side, he ducks between the trees, looking for Flynn. There’s no way he’s leaving him behind to take the fall. Hopefully, Flynn was smart enough to bail as soon as the tree toppled.

From ahead, he hears Flynn whispering for him. He's tucked behind one of the trees, panting heavily. "Yuri, there you are. We have to go now."

“Did you get the tree?” Yuri pants, looking behind him. The tree is back that way, but Flynn is ready to head for the entrance, poised to run.

“Yeah, it’s felled, but there’s no way we’re getting it out of here without getting caught at this rate. Let’s  _ go _ .”

"I have rope, I could have him chase me around while you drag the tree out of here."

"No way. He's already seen your face. If we leave we can get you off with a warning." Flynn's face is pleading. “We need to hurry.”

"But-- the tree."

"Forget the tree, Yuri, I don't want to spend Yuletide without you!"

Yuri's breath comes in short bursts of steam. He feels warm and squirmy inside, and his mind fills with white noise. Flynn is making too much of a fuss about him. They’re wasting time like this. Even if Yuri gets caught, Flynn could easily carry off that tree by himself. He’d be the hero of the Lower Quarter.   


“Why am _ I _ so important?”

The footsteps of the guard come closer. He huffs and shouts for them to  _ ‘HALT’.  _ Flynn reaches out to Yuri. His bright blue eyes implore him.

"You just are.”

Yuri takes his hand and lets Flynn pull him through the grove. No more hesitation.

Flynn holds onto him tightly, their hands freezing and clammy. Despite the situation, Yuri’s heart is light. He could burst into laughter at any moment. He squeezes hard, looking behind them as they run. The guard is having trouble keeping up with them.

Flynn stops, holding a hand up to Yuri's chest. He points, and there are a pair more of guards at the gates. They accompany Cumore himself, wearing a frilly robe and fuzzy boots.

"Someone broke into my personal grove of rare firs?!" Cumore brandishes his infamous rapier. "Investigate immediately. We won't let them get away with this."

Two more guards come out of the grove, dragging the tree that Flynn successfully toppled and carrying Yuri's hatchet.

"Sir! Vandalism was committed, Sir!"

Cumore's shock and horror is the funniest thing Yuri has ever seen. It’s like he’s discovered a brutally slain family member.

"Give me that!" Cumore takes the hatchet in two fingers. He checks the handle. "We'll see if there's a name carved here."

"Oh no," Flynn whispers, but Yuri nudges him.

"It's fine," he says.

"What does it say, sir?"

"... 'Mourning Wood'? What on earth does that mean?"

Yuri wheezes. Flynn snorts.

The guard that Yuri ran into initially comes through the trees, winded. "Captain Cumore, Sir! Lowell! It was-- it was Lowell, Sir!"

"Lowell? Am I supposed to know who that is?!" Cumore drops Yuri’s hatchet with disgust. “Is he a  _ serial lumberjack? _ Does it  _ matter? _ Catch him and clap him in irons! You are an embarrassment to the Cumore Brigade!”

“Y-yes sir!” The five guards disperse into the trees, trudging through the snow and making a lot of noise in clanking armor.

"Yuri, how are we going to get out of here?" Flynn looks at him, his brows drawn tight.

Yuri bites his lip. He buries his hands into his pockets, looking for something.

His fingers brush along his tinderbox. He withdraws it from his coat. He looks up. Off to the side, there's a pile of dead branches and lawn debris covered in a tarp. Next to that is a fancy wooden shed filled with firewood. The gears in his head spin. Flynn’s expression looks like he can hear the inner workings of Yuri’s mind.

"Oh no," Flynn says. “We’re already breaking and entering.”

"Flynn."

“We’re stealing someone else’s property.”

“Hey.”

"We aren't committing arson."

“It’s only a little fire."

"Yuri _ Lowell _ ."

Yuri lifts a match in shaky fingers. "Go for the tree as soon as they notice."

"You're crazy--!"

“Trust me!” Yuri dashes off. Cumore immediately spots his dark silhouette in the snowfall.   


“You idiots! He’s right over there _,_ ” He shrieks. “Go after him!”

Yuri strikes a match, but his freezing hands drop it to the ground. He strikes another. This one keeps a flame, and Yuri shoves it into the dry brush, praying that something catches. 

He's rewarded with the acrid smell of smoking pine, the _ crackle! snap!  _ of dry wood catching. Yuri slips away as the guards reach him, and as he hoped, the fire draws their panic.  He runs behind the pile to reach the wooden shed. This one he feels a little bit badly about; but to see this huge stockpile of wood when the lower quarter barely has any fuel to spare for fire, his guilt fizzles out.

What doesn't fizzle out are the several matches he lights and tosses into the shed.  The smaller fire he lit distracts the soldiers just long enough. The fire that the shed makes grows quickly, burning hotter and hotter until the flames warm Yuri to his core.

Cumore is shouting in the most high-pitched panic Yuri has ever heard, and none of them notice as Yuri bails, heading for the wide-open iron gate.

Flynn emerges from behind their tree. Naturally he’d waited for him. 

“Are you okay?!”

“I’m fantastic! Come on, while they’re busy!”

“What if they get hurt?”

“I think the Cumore Brigade can handle a little fire, don’t you?”

Together, they lift up their tree and carry it out of there as quickly as their legs can carry them, adrenaline working its magic. They exchange a look, and Yuri’s giddy grin makes Flynn burst into giggles. Yuri will get scolded later, for sure, but for now they get to celebrate.

The smoke from the flames disappears behind the curtain of snowfall. And Yuri and Flynn disappear from the noble quarter, leaving behind only a spray of needles quickly swallowed up by powder.

***

In the morning, the residents of the Lower Quarter awaken to find a gorgeous tree in the main square, placed in front of the fountain. Decorated with years-old ornaments and lengths of long-beloved tinsel, it's topped with a grand star that glitters with gold and teal foil.

"We decided to skip the candles this year," Yuri says to Agatha, cupping a mug of cocoa in his hands. "Too many fire-related accidents."

"Well, it looks lovely regardless," Agatha says, waving a dismissive hand. "What happened to you, kiddo? You're all scraped up. You ain't getting into trouble again, are you?"

"Only always," Yuri drawls with a grin. "Don't look at me like that, setting up this tree was just a pain. Oh, thanks again for your help."

“Not a problem, sweetie.” Agatha pats his shoulder. “Did you give it to him yet?”   


“Not yet, he’s been busy all morning. I’ll let you know what he thinks.”

Hanks is dressed up in red and white clothing, posing as a famously fat Kritiyan legend with a giant pillow strapped under his cloak. He passes out gifts with a booming voice and jovial laughter. Agatha goes off to join her kids with the crowd, leaving Yuri by himself. He watches the event with a tiny smile.

There's nothing under the tree for him this year. It hasn't bothered him for a long time, and that doesn't change now; he prefers it this way. Watching the people he loves around him enjoying themselves, their faces lighting up, that's the best gift he could ask for. A day without strife and struggle for these hard-working people.

Someone smacks his head from behind. He whirls around, ready to hit somebody, only to see it's Flynn.

"Asshole, why'd you hit me?"

"Dunno. How are you doing?" Flynn smiles at him, rocking on his feet for some reason.

"Well, I was perfect until I got assaulted." Yuri scoffs. "Hey, you have any of that nog that James's wife made? It's, like... so spicy, it's perfect for you."

"Not yet. Uh, I got you something." Flynn holds up a small package, impeccably wrapped. Yuri frowns.

"You didn't have to, Flynn. I don’t mind sharing stuff with you.”

"I wanted to." Flynn ducks his head with a smile tucked into his mouth. "It's not fancy or anything. It’s all yours, too.”

Yuri sets down his mug to take the gift.

"... I got you something too," Yuri mumbles, removing a box from his coat.

"Oh! You wrapped it. Wow, you did really good." Flynn takes it and looks it over, appraising it.

"Why are you so surprised?"

"Haha, this is the first year you haven't just thrown a present at my head." Flynn beams at him. Every time he grins like that for him, Yuri feels his happiest. "I almost don't want to open it!"

"You'd better open it!"

"Let's do it at the same time." Flynn holds up his box. "Ready?"

"Ready."

They both tear into the wrapping paper, racing to get their box open first. Flynn manages it faster. He pulls a pair of wool gloves from the box, and he starts laughing.

"No way, Yuri! Did you commission these?!"

Yuri gets his box open. It's a pair of gloves. Leather on the outside, and warm fleece on the inside.

"Did we get each other the same damn gift?" Yuri can't look at him, covering his blushy face with the gloves to laugh. "Holy crap."

"Where did you get these?" Flynn pulls them on, and he makes a relieved sound as he rubs warmth back into his hands. "This wool is so soft!"

"I actually made them. Well, with a lot of help. From nag-- from Agatha." Yuri pulls his gloves on, flexing his fingers and looking them over. "These look brand new, Flynn."

"It took a while to save up." Flynn shrugs a shoulder. Yuri looks up in shock.

"You bought them? Flynn, that's too expensive."

"Well, I know you're going to use them for a long time, and they'll come in handy. You have to protect your hands when you work so hard, Yuri." He looks over his own hands. "I can’t believe you  _ made _ these. They are so comfy, and they're blue! How did you get blue wool?"

"... it took a while to save up," Yuri says, and Flynn swats his shoulder.

“You’re such a hypocrite. I love them, Yuri, thank you.”

"I love mine too. Gonna put them to good use.” Yuri smiles at him, raising his forearm. “Hey. Happy Yule, Flynn." 

"Happy Yule, Yuri." Flynn bumps his arm against his, and they high-five. "Ooh, that's good padding. Hey, let's arm wrestle with our gloves on."

"I'm gonna smoke you this time."

"I'd like to see that! Hey, can we get a space at the table?" Flynn takes Yuri's hand and drags him over. They attract a crowd of people who hoot and holler for a good competition, all of them used to Yuri’s and Flynn’s shenanigans. 

Flynn wins, naturally. All three times.

Some of Cumore's goons come by to question the lower quarter citizens, but Yuri and Flynn have disappeared. No one has seen them; not passing out gifts from under the tree, not making snowmen with the local children, and  _ especially _ not drinking eggnog at the Comet and singing loud carols. The soldiers leave without incident.

They end the night sharing a grand dinner with the whole community. As is tradition, everyone in town brings ingredients to add to a pot of stew, creating a massive and hearty meal. Fresh, tough bread is served with hand-churned butter and honey. Desserts and drinks are passed around freely. Hanks holds a toast at the head of Comet’s bar, and they burn a yule log in the fireplace. The room is filled with delicious smells and a blooming warmth.

Here tonight, there’s no loneliness, no such thing as poverty. People are smiling, laughing, and singing without a care in the world. And from the window, their tree can be seen in the square, branches glittering with snow.

“So,” Flynn says, setting a bowl of steaming food down in front of Yuri. “We’re not ever doing that again, right?”

“Depends on if we can find a better tree next year,” Yuri drawls, leaning his chin on his hand. Flynn ruffles his hair and avoids Yuri’s flailing slaps. “Oh, come on! Everybody is talking about the tree. I saw someone crying and saying it was the best tree the lower quarter has ever had. And she was, like, ancient.”

Flynn sighs and chuckles. “I’m serious, Yuri. I know it was an important symbol for you, but you have to know the holidays aren’t about trees or presents.” Flynn flops down on the bench next to Yuri and embraces him. Yuri hesitates.

“Flynn?”

“I’m really glad you’re here, Yuri.” Flynn pulls him closer. “I couldn’t do this without you.”

Yuri settles his arms around him. “Heh. You’re such a sap.” He holds him tightly. “You’ve always got me, Flynn, no matter where we end up this time of year.”

“I’m holding you to that.” Flynn lets Yuri slip out of the hug, and they share a meaningful gaze. Flynn breaks it first, facing the table with an awkward giggle. “Alright, let’s eat already, I’m starving!”

Yuri chuckles through his nose, shaking his head. His cheeks will stay bright red for the rest of the evening.


End file.
